


Nightmares

by TheSoundOfThunderstorms



Series: Nightmares [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Nightmares, dealing with death, it's like a yo-yo of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 04:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13240701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSoundOfThunderstorms/pseuds/TheSoundOfThunderstorms
Summary: She feels in her dreams.





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Madame_Kiksters and Theoroark for going over this for me. You guys are the best :D

“Sombra, where are you?” Widowmaker had secured her grapple hook to the rooftop’s edge, lowering herself to the ground while listening for her partner to reply. All she could hear was the tap of her boots hitting the ground, the distinct sound of crunching gravel filling in the night’s void. Sombra was always late, that much was never in doubt. But she was never quiet.

She tried her earpiece again, tapping the small device with a gloved finger. “Sombra.” Her never ending pool of patience told her to wait, that she’d eventually get a reply. And as she waited in the cloud covered moonlight, Widowmaker got a response. It was static that morphed into a high-pitched ringing. The noise cut out after a few seconds, leaving her with silence again.

Her communicator buzzed in her thigh pouch, a quiet beeping emanating from it. When she pulled it out, the brightly lit screen showed a set of coordinates with a blinking red dot marking the spot. It wasn’t far, just a few buildings over.

As Widowmaker made her way over, her feet unconsciously moved faster the closer she got. There was a slow churning in her stomach, some feeling she couldn’t identify creeping up in her throat.

She nearly tripped, stumbling over her feet until she could upright herself on the nearby wall. Gold eyes peered down at the stacked crates, examining the spot where she almost fell.

“Took you long enough.” Sombra was smiling at the ground, her eyes blinking slowly. Blood trickled out of her mouth as she exhaled. “You’re going to have to give me a minute. I’m just…” Sombra’s words trailed off, her body slumping over onto the ground.

Widowmaker didn’t feel the rifle slip through her hands, only heard a muffled clank of metal against gravel. She was on her knees, dragging Sombra into her lap. The blood that spilled onto her suit didn’t matter. It was the way her heart beat too soon, how golden eyes couldn’t move away from a near serene face.

The back of her throat felt cold, each swallow accompanied by bubbling discomfort.

She couldn’t feel a pulse.

And her eyes burned.

Each stroke of her thumb on Sombra’s warm face was followed by cold droplets of water. Widowmaker didn’t know where it was coming from, just that her eyes were still burning, and her heart was beating too fast.

And everything felt too cold.

-

She woke up with her lungs feeling about to burst. Too much air too fast. Widowmaker wanted to move, to sit up in hopes of finding extra room to breathe. But there was something warm wrapped around her arm.

Widowmaker rolled onto her side and opened her eyes. Sombra was sleeping soundly beside her. Her mouth was slightly open, curved up in a half smile.

A cold hand reached out to touch Sombra’s face, gentle fingers softly tracing its familiar shape. The warmth was familiar and comforting. Widowmaker could feel her breathing slowing down, the ache in her lungs finally letting up.

It didn’t take long to remove her arm from Sombra’s grip. The sleeping woman didn’t make a complaint, she rolled over onto her back and threw an arm over her eyes. Sitting up, Widowmaker wiped at her forehead. Her fingers were coated in cold sweat. She stared at her fingers, rubbing them together idly in thought.

Sombra started mumbling beside her. She paid it no attention until warm hands found their way to her arm again. Sombra looked pleased with herself, happy even that she found what she wanted. Widowmaker thought it was fascinating that being able to touch her arm was enough to make her sleeping girlfriend content.

She watched the steady rise and fall of Sombra’s breathing, surrounding herself with familiarity and feeling a wave of calm wash over her. She watched until purple eyes stared back at her, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“What’s wrong?” She could tell something was up by the way Widowmaker shifted her eyes at the question. The only response she got was a cold touch on her shoulder. It was instinctive to cover the icy fingers with her own. Sombra couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face when Widowmaker turned her hand over to squeeze their fingers together.

And then she feels the dampness on Widowmaker’s fingers, finally noticing how her skin glistened with sweat. “You’re sweating.”  Still no answer. It was the typical response. All part of the game of patience they played with each other. Except this time maybe it wasn’t. Because next thing she knew, Widowmaker was resting her head on her chest, pulling her close.

“It’s nothing.”

And she knows it’s everything. That there was _something_. But she also knew nothing good ever came from pressuring Widowmaker. So, she waited, yawning as she ran her fingers through impossibly long hair. “Well,” another yawn, “if you feel like telling me, I’m all ears.”

Quiet air hung in the room. Sombra could only hear her own breathing and the thumping of her heart. When Widow finally spoke, her heart was ready to burst from the unexpected sound.

“A nightmare.” The words sat there, growing heavier with each passing second, nothing else daring to follow in its wake.

-

The next afternoon, Widowmaker found Sombra sitting in her bed, messing with a box of bandages. She leaned in the doorway, arms crossed and a smirk on her face as she watched Sombra struggle with opening a simple box.

It was only after Sombra fussed with the bandage wrapper for an embarrassing amount of time before she finally noticed Widowmaker in the doorway. She smiled, almost laughing at the knowledge that the greatest sniper to ever live was watching her struggle with a box of children’s bandages. “Cut my finger earlier.” Before she knows it, Widowmaker had crossed the room, swiping the bandage out of her fingers.

It suddenly felt silly to have bought the bandages with cartoon spiders etched on them. Doubly so when the corner of her girlfriend’s lip perked up as she examined the childish illustrations. Sombra blushed as she admitted, “They were cute.” The sound of Widowmaker taking off the glossy paper from the adhesive of the bandage only made her face burn hotter. “And they were on sale.” The excuses spilling out of her mouth ran dry when cool lips kissed her bandage covered finger.

She forgot about the embarrassment, suddenly feeling ridiculously happy.

-

Widowmaker found Reaper muttering to himself. He was pacing the room, hands held tightly at his sides.

“Where’s Sombra.” Widowmaker watched the man stop in his tracks at her question. He stayed facing away from her, keeping quiet for a bit. And then he reached into his pocket, pulling out his datapad.

“She’s been listed as missing as of this morning.”

Her eyes don’t follow the moving words across the screen. She nodded and walked away. Back to her assigned room, to the bed with her small packed bag sitting on top of it. And she waited, expecting a long spiel of apologies to come bursting through the door followed by that smile that was so unmistakably one of a kind.

She never came.

And Widowmaker found herself in her home alone. The windows to the dining room were left open, allowing the cold air to flow inside and rattle the furnishings of the room.

She sat at the head of the table with a glass of wine in her hand. And she stared at the seat Sombra preferred to sit in, imagining Sombra using the chair opposite of her to prop up her feet. She knew it was a bother but that was probably why she did it in the first place.

They were supposed to be there together, after Sombra came back from her assignment.

It was so easy to imagine the countless hours spent in the study, Sombra sleeping away on her lap while Widowmaker worked on reading the random book she plucked off the shelf. ­­­Or the aroma of cooking food, with Sombra at the stove dutifully watching over the pan while Widowmaker stood at the counter space beside her, hands covered in flour as she worked on the dessert Sombra loved.

The chair stayed empty no matter how many times she refilled her glass. And it was still empty when she had enough to drink, leaving the bottle and empty glasses at the table on her way to the bedroom.

It was when she was in bed about to turn off her bedside lamp that she got a notification on her holopad. So, she sighed and picked it up, readying herself for the exaggerated excuses on why Sombra was late.

It was Reaper.

Widowmaker didn’t realize how hard she was squeezing the device in her hands, barely even noticed the screen flickering. She was too focused on the picture, of Sombra with a bullet through her head. The message only said three words. _We found her._

There was glass on the floor, a broken picture frame shattered against the stone. The lamp followed. And then everything on the dresser. Drawers emptied fast before the splintering of wood echoed off the walls.

The mixed smell of expensive perfumes wafted through the air amongst the wreckage of her room. It reminded her of the day she caught Sombra rifling through them, causing the Sombra to accidentally knock over the perfume bottles on the dresser. The smell died down after a week, but it never went away.

It was all too much.

Her burning lungs couldn’t handle the noiseless screaming. It felt like she couldn’t breathe with every desperate choke of air.

Widowmaker found herself on her knees in the middle of the glass and splintered furniture, huffing in puffs of air as she picked up the torn photo from the ground.

Her eyes burned so much.

-

Golden eyes shot open in the dark room, the only light coming from the datapad, the soft glow indicating she had a message. Widowmaker was slow to get up, wiping the sweat from her face as she threw the covers off her body. She stumbled over a pillow that somehow found its way to the floor. Widowmaker tossed it back to her bed before finally picking up the data pad.

It was a short message from Sombra. _Be there as soon as I can. Just wrapping things up._ Widowmaker read it over and over again. It was a process to filter out the dream from reality. Without thinking much on it, she pressed the video call button, watching the blank screen for a moment before Sombra’s face appeared. She never called out of the blue, always sending a message along the lines of “I’m going to call” before each call.

“What’s up?” Sombra looked a bit worried.

Widowmaker stayed quiet, her eyes looking to the side in search of something to say. “When is soon?” She could already feel the familiarity seeping in at Sombra’s cheeky smile.

“Miss me that much already?” Her smile faded a fraction when Widowmaker didn’t answer. Scratching her head, she mustered up her best contemplative look. “I should be there by morning.” A nervous chuckle. “I mean, if everything goes well.”

Widowmaker stared down at the broken holopad lying on the floor. She didn’t remember dropping it. Or maybe she threw it. It might have even slipped, but the longer she stared the more her fingers twitched, feeling the ghost of the action.

She eventually picked it up and placed it back on the bedside table. Her piercing eyes gave the room a once over, landing on the picture frame placed on the dresser. It was a gift from Sombra. She had Gabriel take a picture of them after finishing an assignment. Sombra had twisted her ankle and managed to get Widowmaker to carry her on her back. The man reluctantly took the picture after Sombra kept pestering him about it. Sombra was smiling wide and Widowmaker wasn’t even looking at the camera.

Her feet moved on their own, bringing her to the dresser to get a closer look. She picked it up, a thumb running over the glass covering it. Her other hand traced the spot of wood where the perfumes were spilled, going over it again and again.

After a while of reminiscing she placed the picture frame back on the dresser, being careful with handling it. She was back in bed a moment later, taking up the spot Sombra usually slept in.

-

Sombra stepped off the small boat, waving goodbye to the man that brought her there. It was early in the morning. She had spent all night wrapping things up so she could get to the chateau as soon as possible. And now she was a yawning mess, too tired to do much but maybe kiss her girlfriend and pass out on their ridiculously huge bed.

So, she hurried with letting herself in with the key Widow gave her.

After a few minutes of walking, Sombra found her girlfriend in bed tinkering with something. She squinted to get a better look. It was a holopad.

“What happened?” She took a seat at the edge of the bed and tried to get a better look.

“It broke.”

“Want any help?”

Widowmaker shook her head, staying focused on the holopad. “No.”

“Alright.” Sombra yawned as she got off the bed and walked over to the dresser. She changed her clothes in favor of her favorite shirt and the comfiest pair of sleep pants she owned. They had a cute shrimp pattern on them. Well, at least she thought the shrimp were cute. Widow had other opinions of the shrimp, rolling her eyes every time she saw them.

When she climbed under the covers, she got as close to her girlfriend as possible without bothering her. As the minutes ticked by, she felt cool fingers running through her hair. They smelled like perfume.

Sombra heard the distinctive tap of Widow putting the holopad on the bedside table. Widowmaker probably either fixed it or was content to finish working on it later. Either way, she didn’t complain when her girlfriend stretched out next to her. Couldn’t even fathom anything negative to say when soft lips pressed against her forehead.

And it might have been her tired mind imagining things, but Sombra could have sworn she felt something wet fall to her face. A split second later, cold fingers were tracing patterns along her jawline and she suddenly didn’t care what is was that fell on her face. She was reveling in the attention, enjoying every second she could before falling asleep.

-

The nightmares don’t stop but she learns to ignore them. Because they don’t matter. They’d always end the same way. And she’d always wake up.

So, she waited in her dreams. Waited for the inevitable to happen. Waited to wake up. She waited, ignoring everything else.

-

“Finally!” Sombra dropped down to the ground. She ran for much longer than anticipated. Her breathing was heavy. “Mission over.”

Widowmaker looked down at her tired partner. The whole time Sombra spoke to her over the comms, she was always running and huffing out each word. It was understandable that she ended up on the ground as soon as they completed their assignment. But she wanted to leave already, so she leaned over and offered a hand to Sombra. She started to pull Sombra up when, suddenly, their hands separated.

Sombra fell back to the ground, purple eyes wide in shock. Quiet noises escape from her throat, giving way to a gurgling sound. Gloved hands instinctively reached for her stomach, uselessly trying to stop the bleeding coming from the ripped hole in her jacket.

When Sombra looked up at Widowmaker, eyes pleading for help, she coughed up blood. Widowmaker shifted her gaze away from her, sharp eyes looking at the ground in indifference.

Widowmaker sighed. There was no point in searching for the shooter. She could already hear them riding off. The was nothing to do but wait.

Except it was different this time.

Sombra looked scared and Widowmaker wondered if it was a new way for those unfamiliar feelings to manifest. She took a deep breathe when she felt the abnormal beating of her heart.

It wasn’t real, none of it was. They never would be real.

But each time it _felt_ real. Except this time, she couldn’t tune out the pained sounds. And Sombra was crying. That was new.

It was frustrating to stand there the longer it went on. Because it felt like the nightmares would never end. She didn’t know how long she’d have to wait for it all to finally stop. But there was nothing else to do.

So, she waited.

Scared, purple eyes started to blink closed. From the corner of her eye it looked like Sombra was having a hard time keeping them open.

And she waited.

There were whispered words, too soft to carry far. But she heard them.

“You’re scaring me.”

Something inside was screaming for her to do something. And it felt awful, like it was tearing through her body as it tried to escape.

She waited.

There was silence. She looked back to Sombra, feeling a wave of ice cover her body at the sight. The woman was curled up in a ball, eyes red and unblinking.

There was silence and nothing to do but wait.

 

 

 


End file.
